


All Too Easy

by AdamantSteve



Series: WIP Amnesty/FicDump [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Undercover as Married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 01:44:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1492147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdamantSteve/pseuds/AdamantSteve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil tried to get out of this mission - he doesn't want to play out a fantasy he'll never truly get to experience, but Clint seems determined to make it happen. Undercover pretend married fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Too Easy

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: **this story is unfinished and unbetaed**.The end of the fic has a list of what happens after the events detailed in the story.

 

-

 

“And I said I’d never get married again,” Clint says, putting on the ring. 

Phil sighs. “Believe me, it wasn’t my decision.”

 

And it wasn’t. Phil had tried to get out of the whole thing, and there were firefights he’d put less effort into, but this was in the stars, apparently. That’s how Fury had put it anyway. Old man Coulson with improbably attractive, out of his league Clint Barton, married, for real.

 

Legit paperwork, all through the right channels: a simple city hall marriage, albeit after hours and with no one else in attendance beyond a few key SHIELDites. It was only a short term thing anyway, and no one but those with a need to know were in on the mission, but still. Married to Clint Barton. This wasn’t how Phil had pictured it.

 

He had pictured it, too. In his weakest moments, in the dark hours just before dawn, when he couldn’t sleep, or when his dreams were just as bad as the thoughts in his head, he’d let himself wander down that particular path, with bright smiles and strong hands and flesh pressing against flesh filling his mind. He’d imagine the complaints as he’d shoehorn Clint into a suit, picking out just the right shade of silk to make him a tie, which tailor he’d bring him to, what cut of cloth. He’d play with Clint in his mind like a doll, one that loved him unconditionally, adoringly, grousing but complying, because in Phil’s mind on nights like that, Clint loved him. 

 

They moved into their house, a sweet little place with wisteria growing around the door. Phil concentrated on the mission, because putting his focus anywhere else was painful. The kitchen mocked him for all the meals he’d imagined cooking, the living room held the ghosts of movies they would never watch together. 

 

Clint didn’t seem to get that, though. He was good at undercover stuff when he wanted to be, so Phil put it down to that, but it was disarming when Clint enthused about ‘their’ home and ‘their’ bathroom and all the stuff that ‘they’ were gonna do. He opened the big french windows into the garden and grinned back at Phil. “We should get a dog!” 

 

It was easy to fall into it. For some agents it was easier to live the part, to stay in-character 24/7 rather than drift in and out, and that seemed to be the case for Clint. He busied himself putting everything in it’s proper place around the house, and when it came time for bed (after Clint made dinner), he seemed dismayed at Phil’s plan of sleeping in the spare room. He pointed out that it was part of the mission for them to at least share a bed - what if there was a fire? And Phil was hard pressed to argue. He was exhausted and his heart ached. 

 

The bed, thankfully, was a king-sized beast of a thing, which made Phil feel a little better about the arrangement. at least til Clint got in and seemed to migrate into Phil’s space immediately, so that Phil was acutely aware of Clint’s proximity. He fell asleep so quickly and so soundly, that Phil didn’t have the heart to wake him, instead rolling onto his back and willing himself to fall asleep.

 

-

 

The next morning, Phil woke up with Clint even closer, one arm thrown over his waist and a very hard, very insistent erection poking into his hip. Phil stayed still, only moving to press a palm to his own morning wood. That was enough, though, to rouse Clint just enough to have him gently move his hips to rut against Phil’s and pull him a little closer. 

“C-Clint,” Phil stuttered, voice small and traitorous; he should have been firm, authoritatively clearing his throat and letting Clint wake up and realise what was happening. But even if it was a dream Clint was having, of someone else instead of him, Phil was a weaker man than anyone realised, and he’d take this just a moment longer if he could. The rutting continued for a little while, til Phil really did clear his throat, but that still didn’t do anything, and in the end he slipped out from under Clint’s arm to go jerk off in the bathroom.

 

Clint seemed to have no recollection of his morning exploits when he joined Phil in the kitchen later, grousing about Phil thinking cereal was an acceptable breakfast and determining to put their new kitchen to proper use. Phil’s fantasies had never had Clint cooking, and even the food he’d make for Clint wasn’t as exquisitely delicious as what appeared on his plate. “French toast, a la Black Widow,” Clint said as he ladled some strange syrup concoction onto it. “Are there knives in it?” Phil wondered. 

Clint watched him take a bite and grinned when Phil let out an involuntary groan. 

 

“no knives. But Tasha’s very secretive about her recipes, so I’m afraid I can’t tell you what is in it.”

Phil concentrated on trying to identify the ingredients, but beyond vanilla and maple syrup, he was lost. Clint watched him eat til there was nothing left on the plate, with a pleased look on his face that made Phil feel warm.

 

 

 

 

-

 

_mission - high-stakes cat burgulary neighbourhood watch_

_clint fall asleep on phil shoulder_

_-_

_out around their neighbours- clint very touchy feely_

_get drunk at neighbours house_

_make ouuutts_

_sex_

_-_

_sex in the morning_

_phil thinks there’s bugs in the room - justifying to himself_

-

_they get into a routine - both dragging out the mission as it wraps up_

_once home, clint comes over to phil's apartment and they get it on_

 


End file.
